


Strange Lights Pass Overhead

by Im_A_Freakin_Unicorn



Category: Hermitcraft RPF, Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: M/M, Shameless wish-fulfilling crack-fic, WTNV AU, Will add tags where needed, crossover AU, i might add a dash of Grumbo as time goes on?, set in season six, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:41:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24222235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Im_A_Freakin_Unicorn/pseuds/Im_A_Freakin_Unicorn
Summary: Doc has realised there is 100% something... weird about Grian, the newest member of the Hermitcraft server, and he is determined to figure out where that man came from and what kind of environment caused all of those...eccentricities of his.
Relationships: Carlos/Cecil Palmer
Comments: 11
Kudos: 131





	Strange Lights Pass Overhead

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Melodyofthesea77](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melodyofthesea77/gifts), [CrazyCatMeow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyCatMeow/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Welcome To Night Vale, Dear Hermits](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24172117) by [CrazyCatMeow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyCatMeow/pseuds/CrazyCatMeow). 



> This fic is a self indulgent mess based on two wonderful one shots that I had the urgent need to flesh out! Please don’t hold up hope of me finishing this swiftly, updates will come slowly but they WILL come at some point, I swear. Please don’t be afraid to ask questions or give suggestions!

The real origins of the residents of Hermitcraft tended to be quite mysterious. Sure, there were obvious things like Doc being a creeper, Jevin being a slime and Tango being a demon from the Nether, but even their histories faded out after that point. There was some additional speculation in the minds of the more nosy Hermits, but nobody was going to suddenly come out accusing the beloved admin Xisuma of being some sort of creature from the depths of the End, were they?

It was an open secret that people tended to come to Hermitcraft when they were running away from something, or someone, which made a lot of the residents reluctant to share anything more than the occasional tidbit of personal information. This, coupled with the sheer amount of Hermits who very much preferred to stay mysterious and the fact that there never seemed to be a right time to ask about it culminated in a rule amongst the group that never really needed to be made official or written down: Don’t ask about anyone’s dark and mysterious past, and nobody will ask about yours. Newcomers to the server tended to learn this rule quite quickly, that is if they didn’t already seem to know that discussing people’s homes would be a touchy subject. 

Thanks to this unspoken rule, when Grian, the cheeky, sandy-haired newcomer with an affinity for pranks, didn’t offer up any explanation as to how and from where he appeared in the Season Six world, Doc wasn’t particularly surprised. Some people had things to hide, he supposed, and it wasn’t like he had any room to judge.  
As the season progressed however, it became more and more apparent that Grian came from somewhere that wasn’t… your average place, and it became increasingly difficult to hold onto The Rule and not interrogate the incredibly intriguing man about his origins.  
Grian would spend hours fiddling with a radio he had fashioned from redstone and hooked up to his communicator (with help from Mumbo of course) to try and tune into some unknown station, he referred to Keralis and Bdubs as ‘The Interlopers’ for the first two weeks of their return to Hermitcraft, refused to use wheat or anything to do with it until he was repeatedly reassured that the bread Iskall was holding was not, in fact, going to turn into highly venomous snakes, and many other confusing traits that most hermits had decided to write off as ‘Grian being Grian’. But Doc was not most hermits. He paid very close attention to all of these quirks, but if he happened to notice that the blonde seemed to make constant allusions to vague yet menacing government agencies, or always had personal conversations weirdly loudly next to windows or convenient hiding places, then he did not say anything. 

That is, until the founding of Area 77.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Look, Doc, I get that you’re annoyed by the hippies being so close but isn’t this taking it a little too far? You’ve been sat here for hours just watching Grian build a flower farm!” Scar complained, looking out at the commune from their strategic surveillance spot on a nearby hill. 

“I know you don’t get it, but I’m onto something here” came the gruff reply from the cyborg currently lying prone in a van made out of concrete, with a pair of binoculars trained on the cheerful little area below him “There’s something different about him. I’ve been putting together information about why he acts so weird and I decided to do some undercover operations, so I sat here and I swear I saw something on his forehead. It looked like a third eye!”

“Look, I think you might just be a little tired, dude. If G had three eyes, I’m sure we would have noticed by now. How long have you been sitting in this fake van just staring at the poor man?” Scar questioned, resting a hand on the creeper’s shoulder  
“... since sunrise” He admitted, glancing out at the sun that looked halfway to setting  
“And have you had anything to eat or drink?”  
“... a cup of coffee and some toast.”  
“Yep, that’s it, no more hippie surveillance for you. They annoy me with their weird music and flowers just as much as you, and I’ll set up some more cameras if it makes you feel any better, but I just know there’s nothing too weird going on today” Scar insisted, taking it upon himself to pull Doc up and frog-march him down the hill, back into Area 77 territory.

Grian, still back at the hippie camp, breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness Scar thought the concept of a third eye was too weird. He really didn’t want to have to try and explain anything about his body or his home, especially not to Doc and Scar when they were so determined to find out how things worked and meddle in things they didn’t understand. Even worse, what if those scientists at Area 77 decided they wanted to investigate his home further, and make a portal to that desert town? How would he explain all these things that seemed so normal to him, and yet so confusing to the occasional interloper that passed by? His behaviour here had obviously raised quite a few red flags, what with the avoidance of wheat and its byproducts, and the resulting confusion from Mumbo and Iskall when he insisted he would sustain himself early-game on imaginary corn, but his parents? His childhood friends? They were far, far worse.  
Wait, no. One of his parents was alright, but that was only because he wasn’t born in Night Vale. 

The blonde smiled, stepping back from his now finished flower farm and wiping some sweat off his brow. The third eye on his forehead opened fully to help him better appreciate the completed build, and his purple sclera and darker iris stood out against his pale skin. A perfect focal point for the surveillance cameras hidden in the trees.


End file.
